


Idiocy In A Mile's Radius

by LadybugsFanfics



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Compass Soulmate AU, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Idiotic Tom Hiddleston, Pining, Soulmate AU, Swearing, Tom being an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:55:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22423693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadybugsFanfics/pseuds/LadybugsFanfics
Summary: Requested by anonymous:Something fluffy with Compass AU Soulmate, with a Tom and Childhoodfriend! Reader that have always know they are soulmates, but Tom is completely clueless about it. So one day after another one of his relatonships went wrong, he takes her to a bar and look at his compass and goes like "Dang, im the foolest of fools, the most dumb and stupid person on the universe" and kiss her.
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston/Reader
Kudos: 69





	Idiocy In A Mile's Radius

**Author's Note:**

> **COMPASS AU SOULMATE** Where you actually have a compass instead of a clock, and it leads you to where your soulmate should be.

“Aren’t you sick of it yet?” 

Tom perks his head up at your voice. You’re leaning against the kitchen counter, glass of water perched by your lips and a cock of your brows asking him the same question you have for years. 

He still has to ask. “Sick of what?” 

“Sick of trying out all these relationships when they never work.” You take a sip of the water, question still on your face. 

“I guess not. I’m still trying, right?” Tom tries for a smile, but it doesn’t work as he wants based on the snort that comes from you. “I guess my compass doesn’t work.”

You shake your head. “I don’t think that’s the problem, hun.” 

“Then what is?” 

“You.” 

And Tom should be offended, probably, but he can’t be when you laugh right away and smile at him as if there’s nothing really wrong with that. He moves from his spot towards you. “And why is that?”

“Oh, you know. You’re fucking blind.” You laugh harder as you say so, tongue coming to graze over your teeth and lick your lips, before biting down on your lower one. “I don’t know how, since you do own glasses, but you are so fucking blind.”

Tom takes a step closer to you. “Oh, and how do you know? Aren’t you just as blind as I am?” 

You shake your head, amused smile still on your lips. “I know who my soulmate is, I’m just waiting for him to realize.”

“Really, now?” He cocks a brow. “And may I ask who?” He ignores the slight uneasy feeling that folds over his chest―it’s a habit, as it always comes whenever he asks you about your soulmate. 

“You can ask as much as you like, but I’m never gonna answer.” You give him your patented ‘I’m really happy with myself’ smile, making Tom roll his eyes. “And before you say it, giving me some alcohol will not change that.”

Tom shakes his head. “How did you know I was going to say that?” 

“By hitting you with my brother’s bicycle at the age of three because I definitely couldn’t ride it, and then, after hitting you, asking if you wanted to play with me.” You take a sip of water. “And by staying friends with you since that moment, never once letting you cut contact just because you became famous.”

“Can’t argue there.” 

“I still can’t believe how you said yes to play with me and then dragged me with you so that I’d tell your parents what I did and you made me cry,” you say and smile. 

Tom chuckles. “I can’t believe you still wanted to be my friend.”

“Neither can I, Tommy, neither can I.” 

And you both laugh at that, knowing you wouldn’t want it any other way. 

It tugs at Tom’s heart. Tugs in a way that makes a giddy feeling travel through his body, and he hopes that when you each find your soulmates, you won’t lose the relationship you have with each other. 

“Okay, but, darling,” he says as you recover from your laughter. “What about a night at the bar? Tomorrow evening? I can see if my soulmate isn’t somewhere in sight and you can tell me more about yours?”

You roll your eyes. “This shit again, huh? Sure, but just know that you can’t read the fucking compass so if you strike out, don’t be too sad, okay?” 

“Very funny,” he replies, but you both still smile at each other. And you both shake your head as if you find it all amusing but you won’t really admit to it. Tom relishes in the swirl in his gut at the sound of your laugh and at the sight of your dazzling smile. 

\---

Tom had said you were going to a bar, not some nightclub. Yet, when you open the door to let him in, his mouth goes dry. Even if you’re not his soulmate, he can’t help but be attracted to you―who wouldn’t be with the confidence of which you hold yourself, with the beauty that shines through your personality, and with how fucking gorgeous you are. 

And that’s no less showing today than any other day. The black jeans that fit so well and accentuate your legs, the singlet that leaves only some to the imagination, and the red and black flannel thrown over as somewhat of a jacket. Itself, the look is casual, but on you (and paired with that bright smile and those sparkling eyes), Tom wouldn’t think twice if you’d wore it to an award show. 

“Just gotta put on my shoes and I’ll be ready.” You slump down on the stairs as you say so, pulling your shoes with you and starting to pull them on. 

Tom shakes his head. At the moment, it’s almost impossible to ignore the feeling that circulates his body. The feeling of content, of nervousness, and of absolute, utter love. He’s not so sure he wants to ignore it either. 

“I’m ready!” You shoot up on your feet before Tom can come back to his senses, but it easily drags him out of his thoughts and he flashes you a smile. 

“Then let’s get going, love.” He holds out his arm for you to take, and, after a quick snatch of your purse from the floor, you take the offer. 

The trip to the bar isn’t one that takes very long. It’s a tube ride and there you are, and even if you’d have to walk, it’s not long to yours nor Tom’s place from where you’re going. 

At the entrance, Tom takes a sweep of the room. His eyes quickly find a free seating and he points you in its direction and goes himself to buy you both drinks. There’s a line at the bar, but Tom doesn’t mind. With the free time, he notes the pretty lady behind the counter, and he looks down at his wrist to see which way his compass points. The needle, unfortunately, points in another direction. Tom shrugs and follows the line to the counter instead. 

It takes him another ten minutes before he’s sitting down next to you, a beer glass to his lips, and his eyes skimming the crowd around them. 

“Okay,” you say, place your glass down, and turn to look at him. “Where is your compass pointing now?” 

Tom raises a brow, but that only elicits a roll of your eyes and a tired sigh. “Okay, sorry.” He places his gaze on the needle at his wrist. It’s pointing right ahead, and right ahead is… He looks up and there’s you, and behind you, the wall. 

He shakes his head. “She’s not here.” 

“And how do you know?” 

“There’s a wall behind you, and after that there’s the outside.” He says it very matter-of-factly. He can’t understand why you’re so insistent on this. Maybe it’s because you’ve already found yours and you want him to find his before you tell him? Tom takes to ignoring the stab of pain the thought brings, and instead looks at you with a smile. “So, let’s not care and just have fun the two of us.”

“You are…” You sigh. “... so fucking annoying, but yeah, let’s just have fun.” Though the smile on your face looks slightly pained. 

Tom ignores that, too. And for the next two hours, you do have fun. He can’t get enough of your laugh, and he can’t get enough of your accidental touches. When your hand happens to graze his thigh, when you let your fingers trail through the hair at the nape of his neck, when you place a kiss on his cheek before he goes to buy more drinks. 

His whole body is giddy as he tells the bartender what he wants. As he waits, he looks up at you. You’re looking at your phone, something akin to disappointment the expression coloring your face. It makes Tom frown―had he done something? 

He shakes the thought away, and instead looks down at his wrist. The needle points slightly to the left of straight ahead. Slightly to the left would make it… the direction in which you sit. 

Tom feels his brows knit together as his thoughts race. The needle always points past you, always points in your direction. He’s always thought it was because his soulmate was in that direction, that his soulmate just happened to be somewhere close but never close enough. 

But now he realizes that his look was too wide. His soulmate has always been right there in front of his eyes, always right there waiting for him to notice.  _ I already know who my soulmate is, I’m just waiting for him to realize. _

You had been talking about  _ him _ , about Tom. 

God, he’s a fucking idiot. He’s the stupidest man on Earth, nay, in the universe. The foolest of fools. His idiocy has to have been on display for everyone to see. He should have seen it, he should have seen it so long ago. 

At least he knows now. 

The bartender coughs for his attention and hands him his drinks. Tom can feel his heart beat as he takes them and moves towards where you sit, towards where his  _ soulmate  _ sits. 

“Took you long enough,” you comment as he places the drinks down, and Tom isn’t sure whether that’s a comment on him finally realizing that you’ve been right in front of his nose all this time or just about the drinks. 

But he doesn’t dwell on it long enough because now that he knows, he can’t keep from feeling all those feelings he’s been ignoring. The pain when talking about your soulmate was because he was yours and the thought (even subconsciously) of you being with someone else physically hurt him. The heat of you touching his skin, the way his heart squeezed in that good way because you smiled so big, the adrenaline that goes through his body at just the thought of you. 

_ God, he’s a fucking idiot _ . 

And then he does the thing he’s been wanting to forever but hadn’t let himself think. He presses his lips to yours, trying at first because he doesn’t know what he’s doing. When your arms pull around his neck and pushes him closer he lets his hand come up to cup your face. He lets himself indulge in the feeling that rushes over him like an addictive drug.

You’re the one to pull away, but not father than being able to rest your forehead against his. 

“Your comment,” starts Tom, “was that about the drinks?” 

You scoff and shake your head. “God, it was, but it definitely counts for this, too.” You press a chaste kiss to his lips, lingering a bit as if you can’t get enough of the taste of his pressed against yours. “You’re a blind fucking idiot, and I’m glad you finally find out how to see.”

Tom rolls his eyes, but the smile grows big on his face. “I’m glad I did, too.” He presses his lips to yours. “And I’ll be any idiot as long as you don’t ever leave my arms.” 

The chuckle that escapes you warms Tom’s whole body. “I’m not planning to.”


End file.
